


Lemniscate

by Liast



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Lucifer (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Character Death, Episode: s03e26 Once Upon a Time (Lucifer TV), Eventual Romance, F/M, Human Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Pre-Episode: s01e01 Pilot (Lucifer TV), Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 06:49:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liast/pseuds/Liast
Summary: People accused me of being controlling. And yes, I may have put Chloe in Lucifer’s path. But, what if I didn’t? Would they still get together?





	Lemniscate

**Author's Note:**

> Brace yourself, I got to mention that some part of this fic is pretty dark, as it contains major character death and implied suicide. Please, be aware.  
Oh, and the tittle is from one of Crywolf's songs that I loves so much.

People accused me of being controlling. And yes, I may have put Chloe in Lucifer’s path. But, what if I didn’t? Would they still get together?

.

“Well, hello …” he looked her over, grinning while his eyes clearly appreciated the woman in front of him, “Detective.”

She hold up the fake badge hanging from her neck. Black tinted glasses made the lie easier. “Detective Bonnie Gennaro. How can I help you?”

That was their first words. Continued with bicker and banter, slight hostility, and a Lucifer Morningstar and one Chloe Jane Decker stumbled into each other. They raced and chased around town. Some shots was heard but nothing hurt. They caught the murderer.

“Well, that was quite fun, wasn’t it?” Lucifer commented, when they were alone together, siting on a bench upon the hill, looking over the city covered in artificial lights, obscuring the stars he made eon ago. Night air chilled their skin. He sipped from his flask. “Hmm? Not bad for a half-in-the-bag club owner and an actress.”

“Well, I,” Chloe took his offered flask, “I don’t know if ‘fun’ is the word I would use.”

“No?”

“Yeah, but it certainly was fulfilling.” She brushed her hair and let silence fell in for a second before she confessed. “You know, it makes me think, maybe I’m tired of playing a cop in the movies, you know? Maybe … maybe I’d like to play detective for real.” 

He laughed at her words. “What? Hang up the glitz and the glamour for a badge and a naked man with a harpoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” It surprised him. But there was no surprise when the next words flowed easily out of his mouth. “Maybe I’ll tag along.”

“It’s never gonna happen.”

“Care to wager?” 

And they talked through the night. Maybe Chloe really did became a cop and Lucifer became her partner. Maybe that didn’t happened, and she was still an actress and he was still The Devil slashed club owner. They got their life ahead of them. And besides, maybe in the other life, they really did?

.

Sometimes, their names was different, but the soul remained the same.

Like in this life, his name was Sam Speed. He was a mere policeman. One second he was getting off of his motorcycle, and the next he was hit by a car. He didn’t expect himself to wake again, alive, much less thrown back in the past. Suddenly, his life became a parody of Life on Mars. He wanted to laugh at the ridiculous situation he was in and cry at the hopelessness of his being.

His landlady’s daughter stumbled in the dining room and he couldn’t help but smiled at her. Her name was Jaine, and the landlady reminded them again that she was promised to the farmer’s son.  
They locked eyes and smiled again, anyway.

.

They didn’t even meet in this life. He was too young when he died of malaria. She was too old with dementia.

.

Then, Lucian Morgenshtern received his acceptance letter to Hogwarts – School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the age of eleven. 

They were in the platform 9 (3⁄4). Amnediel waited patiently from the side, hands on their trollies. His mom tried to look strong, but she sobbed when he hugged Urie as he started to cry and wailed that he lose his only friend. In the end, his mom pushed at his back while Amenadiel gripped his hand, and they ran into the wall and emerged on the world full of magic.

“Lucian Morgenshtern.”

He was called. With eager steps and chest puffed up, he reached the podium. The Sorting Hat was placed on his head and he spoke even before it could say hello. “Let’s make a deal.”

All of the students looked at him in surprise and the teachers became more surprise when the Hat curiously asked him, “What kind of deal?”

“You sort me in the most fun house here and I will not turn you pink.” Coy, he held his wand and the Sorting Hat felt his magic trickled out.

“Threatening, are we? Definitely a Slytherin. But, hmm … You could pass as Ravenclaw as well.”

“Are they fun?” He added and made a face. “Don’t ever think to put me in Hufflepuff. My brother’s there. He’s the most boring person in the world.”

“Well, that’s not how it work. I’ll put you in house with character traits that defines you the most. Besides, it’s a school, you are to learn here, not have fun.”

“That’s the very definition of boring. I’ll bring the fun here, then.”

“Oh, troublesome, aren’t you? Gryffindor!”

The Gryffindors cheered and whooped, they clapped hands and Lucian’s mutters of _well, at least it’s red_ went unheard. He sat between a fifth year that he immediately dismissed and a girl his own year, with sharp eyebrows and permanent frown on her face.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Hello.” He offered his hand, which she took rather disgruntledly. “Lucian Morgenshtern.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I didn’t know know your name, though.”

“Really?” she darted her eyes around, “didn’t you hear when the teacher called me, like, five minutes ago, right before you make a scene?”

“Um, sorry.” He didn’t look sorry, not at all, so the girl didn’t even bother giving him her name, as the Headmaster gave a light speech and diner was served.

In the morning, with grin on his bright face and black robe flowing behind, he sat himself in the empty chair beside the grumpy girl from last night. The teacher called for a Charity Jean Deckers and she raised her hand. 

He grinned, eyebrows rose. “Charity?” 

“Ugh. Just call me Jean, please.”

“Of course, Charity.” He repeated with a straight face. Fortunately, everybody else called her Jean.

Their first year was the start of their friendship. As in, Lucian kept making scenes and Jean kept being dragged in while pitifully tried to ward off trouble. Her efforts doubled in difficulty when Lucian introduce Mazikeen Smite, a Slytherin that despite the taboo and rivalry between the two houses, found common ground in attracting troubles.

Their second year was started by a discreet wave of a wand and the Sorting Hat turned fully pink. Booming laughter over the great hall became deafening and it drown out Amnediel’s rough yelling of Lucian’s name. Said troublemaker had the decency to look offended, but then, the grin splitting his face and a thumb up thrown to Maze who laughed hysterically said otherwise. He winked at her, and Jean covered her face with her hand. The first diner have not even been served and she was so done with him. 

On the third year, Ellen Loopez managed to render Lucian completely still with her hugs and Jean happily welcome her into her wayward group. Which she regretted, two days later. Because if Lucian was annoying and whining most of the day, Ellen couldn’t even shut up most of the time.

At least their fourth year went smoothly because Lucian’s younger brother, Urie, was here and he showed her a brotherly side that Jean thought he didn’t even know. Or as smoothly as it could be, until the guys from Quidditch team found out about Lucian’s exceptional flying skill and begged him to join the team. 

“Why on Earth would I do that?” flat out refusal. 

The captain made a deal with the head of Gryffindor house to let Lucian bring piano in the common room and Lucian, pridefull as he was, would never let any favor left unpaid, agreed to join. Thus, was why the Gryffindor never stopped celebrating after games and partying almost every night. His music flowed seamlessly into her dreams.

The fifth year, Amnediel was no longer in Hogwarts, Lucian accidentally drank a potion, and Jean’s life turned to hell.

“How can someone accidentally drink potion Maze?” 

“It’s Lucian. Do you really need to ask how?” Of course. And apparently she asked the wrong person too. 

Overnight, Lucian eagerly attended herbology and potion classes and the teachers gladly received his enrapt attentions. When he voluntarily offered himself to help them after class and clean the cauldrons and prepare the day’s necessity, Jean feared that hell is about to break lose in Hogwarts. She couldn’t bring herself to keep him in minimum trouble because being a prefect was harder than it looks, as it turned out.

Sixth year, a howler floated in front of Lucian and Amnediel’s voice filled the great hall in the early morning during breakfast. “Lucian Morgenshtern, stop being a coward and ask her out. On. A. Date!” The hall echoed in thunderous laughter and Jean forced a laugh out of her mouth. She wondered why her chest hurt.

Seventh year came in a blur. Her days was filled with worrying over N.E.W.T. and being a head girl, over Lucian and his mysterious crush, over Maze’s who brought her surname into reality and Ellen’s new habit of stealing books from the library, over what if she couldn’t be an auror and the first date with Lucian tomorrow. Not necessarily in the right order because she was a fucking mess. 

“What about flying above the lake over sunset? I’m sure Buckbeak wouldn’t mind taking us around.”

His voice caught her off guard. “What?”

“I’m planning our evening together.” He look up from the book he was writing, a speck of ink fell out of place. “Unless you want to back out?”

“No, we’re still on. I even marked it on my calendar.” She awkwardly made a gesture with her hand. 

“Charity, it’s fine. It’s alright if we postpone it, I know you’ve been busy this week.” He reached her hand across the table, hold it loosely and yet much more dearly. “No rush.”

The softness in his eyes was a familiar sight lately, and she found disappointment behind understanding in it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

And it was. Because no matter how many more date that he planned but never happened, they got a life time together to figure it out.

.

Then, in another life, he was an actor. Actually British this time, born in Wales. They never met, but Chloe watched him from her screen, a show called Miranda. She couldn’t stop her laugh at the hilarity of it.

.

And yet, in another life, they met.

There was an attack on New York. Alien. Oh, they were very much real. A giant hole in the sky became their entrance, skeleton whales or robotic leaviathans swarmed all over the city, and grotesque humanoid beasts riding flying motors, pouring out of it.

Lucifer ran in an alley, knocked open a door, and hid in the backroom of a small establishment. In the flickering light, he saw a woman crouching behind the inside door, shuddering breath and pale faced. 

“Hey, can I hide here?” his own ragged breath soon mathces her.

“Wha … y-yeah.” She blinked, hand cluthced the front of her shirt. “Yeah.”

“Calm down, its okay.” He pushed a couch to the door, blocking it even when he was not sure if it could stand the alien’s raw power. “We are save here.”

She looked unconvinced, and so did him. But what else to say anyway. “The front windows was broken. There is glass everywhere. I hope Dan’s okay.”

“You’re about to pass out, but you still think of other?”

“He’s the father of my child, of course I’m worried.”

“Calm down.” He took her hand, leading her to sit on the couch with him, not caring if the ketchup on it stained his beige pants. “Take a deep breath. Or some.”

She did. Her voice was calmer when she spoke. “I’m Chloe Decker. And you are?”

“Dearie me, where are my manner?” he extended his hand, small and callous hand grasped his own. “Lucifer Morningstar.”

She gaped at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “Is that a stage name or something?”

“My father have a great sense of humor, I’m afraid.”

“Really?” she chuckled and his name became less strange considering the state they were in. “Sorry.”

“No worry, dear.”

They talked easily, like they were old friends separated for years, like a couple chilling in the backroom while on break from work. The banging from the inside door startled them, they thought it was the alien, but a panicked man’s voice called out her name instead.

“Dan?” she hastily opened the door and Lucifer saw a man with the same shirt as Chloe. A family business then. She ushered Dan inside, locked the door and introduce him. 

They stayed there until there was no commotion from the outside. Dan opened the door when they heard fire fighters yelling from the other side. With a promise to come back and tried some of their food, Lucifer left.

And he did comeback. Two weeks later, when the street at least resemblance the normalcy and most of the mess from the alien invasion was no longer present. The establishment was empty, not opened yet. 

“In my defense, I didn’t know about your existence, child.” He quipped as a little girl stood in front of him, demanding a chocolate cake as well when she saw him handing a bottle of wine to her mother, Chloe.

“Trixie!” she chided, ready to reprimand her to be polite, but Lucifer’s chuckles made her stop.

“You gave your own daughter a hooker’s name? Talk about dad jokes.”

“What’s a hooker?” 

“Ask your father.” Lucifer smiled and put his hands in his pants pocket. Chloe rolled her eyes and motioned for Trixie to go inside with her father. “How’s are you doing?”

“Oh, good. Great even.”

“Yeah? You were a mess back then.” He remembered the panic etched on her face.

“Yeah, sorry, I must be a terrible sight there.”

“No, you’re quite beautiful actually. Shame, you were already married.”

“Oh. I’m not- we’re divorced.” It came out of her mouth and Chloe scolded herself. Why did she talk about that to a practical stranger?

“Really?” he smiled again, Chloe had no choice than to turned her head, fingers pushing strands of her hair out of her eyes. She nodded, not trusting her voice. “Been decorating, are you?”

“Yeah.” She said curtly. His eyes roamed the entire room, the vibrant fake flower plants in the corner, circle tables, little ornaments along the new tinted windows, the old clock that somehow glints under the warm overhead light. A photograph on the wall caught his interest.

“Is that?” Lucifer’s hand hung in mid air, finger pointing at the photograph in simple frame, Dan’s face was right at the center, behind him was a group of superhero that the news dubbed as Avengers, sitting in circle, eating.

“Oh, yeah. They came here later that day, can you believe it? A group of superhero eat here after saving the world from alien invasion. The Tony Stark paid more than he should, until I considered to retire and close the shop. What has become of my life?” 

“What has become of your life, indeed. I’d trade my soul to the devil if I could have a meal with them. Interesting bunch.”

“You’d sell your soul?”

“We share a name after all, maybe the devil will make my wish come true, for free.” She shook her head at him, before retreating to the kitchen and serving him the same food the Avengers ate here.

His visits became normal occurence, he realized, after nights he spent there, notebook and laptop opened, a cup in front of him already empty but he didn’t ask for a refill, as Chloe serving customers in the busy night. And after three months, he realized that he preferred the busy night at her shop, with her spawn at his side doing her homework, bad 90’s song echoed from the radio, than the silence at his apartment. His coffee went cold but he didn’t care because an idea hit him hard and he need to write it fast before he forgot again. 

A year into their strange friendship and Lucifer nervously asked her on a date. 

They were married five years later. It was the best day of his life, while she was the best thing in his life, and he just couldn’t help but grinned widely when the priest stumbled saying his name during the ceremony. Chloe almost scold him, before she turned her glare to Dan who snickered behind him. It was the best day of his life. 

But the day after though, was the worst of his life, because Chloe Jane Morningstar _vanished_.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

He cried, he plead, he prayed. God never answer, because He was cruel and fate was unforgiving. The world was a mess, it was on fire and he choked on empty air. He opened the window and saw a motherless child. He opened the door and saw broken wife preparing diner for more than necessary. He turned the tv and saw half life gone into dust and brushed by the wind. 

He felt the absence rather than the presence. 

Beatrice called to inform him that they were okay. She was in her father’s home, with her grandparents, and they’re all okay. She said that they will come to him, her father and she, tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow came but they didn’t. 

A car accident near New York’s park, a drunkard crashed his car and brought down eight more with his death, didn’t even made a headline in the local newspaper. He was burning in rage, falling in misery, and drowning in sorrow. 

The days turned to weeks, turned to months, and it became a long painful year. He spent it with the only thing he could do. A book with his name on its cover, although it was in a genre that he never wrote before, so different from the fantasy and romance and erotica that his fans was familiar with. Where Do We Go, Now That Thye’re Gone? became more than his book tittle. It became number 3 of the most trended tweet in a couple of days since published. It became posters in group counseling offices. The billboards was full of the phrase. And he just _lost_.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

He wandered out of his house, never mind about locking the door, he didn’t even close it. He passed an abandoned stands of the farmer market that open every Saturday. He passed a rather lively bookstore with people standing around, and there was a solemn-looking girl with his book in her hand, and he was relieved when she didn’t stop him for an autograph. 

He passed the damn memorials, with their bronze stone standing proudly, sturdy, forever carved with the names that should never be forgotten, and people mourned. This was the first time he ever planted his feet here. He never stopped. Because when he stopped, he was afraid that he would look and found her name there. He didn’t want her name there. 

He wandered and eventually, he was standing on the red bridge, tall above the ground. Cars rushed pass him, the air warmed him, and the river below flowed invitingly. 

He leaped.

It seemed to be the end, but it was not.

Like a cruel joke of the universe, there was a snapped and white light washed over it. Chloe Jane Morningstar opened her eyes and found nothing. What left of their home was no more than a ruined house. She called his name and there was no echo in the empty air. She called her daughter but there was nothing on the other line. She tried to make sense of what happened but found insanity stuffed in her head instead. 

She tried to live, she really did, but found that she was just _lost_.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

She wandered outside. Passed the neighborhood that suddenly full of people with bursting love. Passed the street with children running around wearing happy faces. Passed the restaurants with customers waiting outside and smells of food reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Passed a bookstore and she caught a glimpse of his name on display. She ran.

She ran until she was out of breath and with trembling legs, she sat on a white bench. Spread in front of her was memorial stones. She couldn’t be there, so she ran again, her chest hurt and her head spin and black dots clouded her vision. She ran, because if she stopped, she would look for his name, and then she would find that his name was not in there. She wanted his name there.

She ran and eventually, she was standing on the red bridge, tall above the ground. Cars rushed pass her, the air chilled her, and the river below flowed invitingly. Like a crude imitation of Romeo and Juliet that he criticized every time she commented that his writing became more romantic through out the years they’re together. It seemed to be the end, and it was. 

She leaped, years apart.

.

Their life didn’t always ended like that, though.

He was a knight, a glorious guard for the King of the Seven Kingdom. His life was bound by the oath he swore on his knees. And when the Protector of the Realm became the Mad King, Ser Lucio of the Morning Star became Kingslayer. His exiled went as easily yet painfully as his when he thrust Lightbringer in the king’s chest.

Then, under a ruined watchtower and burned banners, he met her.

Her hair was light, so was her eyes and her skin. The softness of her touches was only surpassed by the smile on her lips. She couldn’t speak though, so he made a name for her and she liked the way he whispered _Khloey_ in her ear.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

They were not perfect, from for it, but being in each other’s grasp, in each other’s life, they were just. 

.

And yet, in a completely different life, they met again.

Lucifer, the Fallen Angel, was bored after thousands of years in Hell. He decided to take a vacation and moved to LA. A murder of his friend happened, and he was questioned.

“Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Lucifer Morningstar. Is that, uh, a stage name or something?”

He chuckled and leered at detective standing in front of him, fingers smoothing over the keys of his Steinway. “God given, I’m afraid.” 

She gaped at him, and he took a deep look at her person for the very first time. “You know, you look familiar. Have we met before?”

.

Eventually, they end up making the same choices, are drawn to the same person, the same soul. Does that mean I never should’ve manipulated things to begin with? 

After all, a parent just wants what’s best for their child.

**Author's Note:**

> How do you like the references?


End file.
